Dreamt
by Feared-Director
Summary: slashness, a bit of a fic from the POV of Lister's subconsious dream!Rimmer.


a/n: Because Lister's subconscious dream!Rimmer is as much Rimmer as any other Rimmer. Sorry about any possible grammar tense changes. I swear it's a disease.  
  
Home. He was home. He was finally, finally home. He couldn't seem to stress this enough. Here he was. home.  
  
It had taken him a lot of delicate calculations. There had been a huge probability he wouldn't find the right dimension, and even if he did, he might not be allowed back, but he did. And he was.  
  
He didn't know if he was going to stay, if he'd be allowed to stay. They might not want him. Lister might not want him. They had Kochanski. Kristine Kochanski, the girl Lister had been in love with for three hundred and eight years, give or take.  
  
He get into the 'Bug. He just stands for a second, taking it in. He never thought he'd be so happy to see the 'Bug. This stupid crate, with it's horrid colour and putrid stench. It's the putrid stench of home, he decides. And walks to the cockpit, where Lister is sitting alone.  
  
He silently removes his wig and sits down.  
  
"About time, Cat, you're late," Lister grumbles, Rimmer grinned. "Now, where've you been?"  
  
Unable to contain himself anymore Rimmer finally speaks. He has so many things to say, but can't figure out how to say them, so he shortens everything to two words.  
  
"Hello Listy."  
  
Lister jumps and turns, suprised. "Rimmer? Smeggin' hell! What are you doing here?"  
  
"I got fed up with adventuring," Rimmer shrugs, "You know what it's like, you save a couple of civilizations, and it all gets a bit... samey." Rimmer realizes that no, Lister has no idea what it's like. Rimmer can't quite put into exact words what he'd been feeling for the past year. He can't figure out how to say it, so once again, he simplifies. "I thought I'd come and find the old team."  
  
"It's good to see you," Lister's face cracks in a gerbil like grin. Rimmer melts. "Are you real?"  
  
"As real as you can get, being a hologram." Lister nods, and Rimmer sits, watching him. While Lister processes this, an occasional smile will flit onto Rimmer's face. He's home. He's really home.  
  
"So, where've you been?"  
  
Rimmer take the briefest of brief seconds to decide not to tell the exact truth.  
  
"Argon Five. I fought in the Belugosian War," a brief flash on disbelief dances across Lister's face, and Rimer smiles a bit more, "I was decorated and used as a Christmas tree in the town square where people came and fed me cherry liqueur chocolate for the whole winter." The brief look of disbelief has become a full force look of disbelief. The brief look has been joined by all it's other disbelieving look friends and they're having a party. "Nahh, I'm only kidding."  
  
"Kiddin'? What do you know about kidding?" Rimmer almost winces, but doesn't.  
  
"I just thought it was time i livened up a bit," Rimmer reached into his pocket and pulled out a party favour and blew it. "Hey hey!" He paused, looked Lister in the eyes, who was still looking faintly disbelieving. A 'this-can't-be-Rimmer' look. Rimmer does wince. The look flees from Lister's face. "So.. how about you? How's it going?"  
  
"Ahh, y'know. Same Old Starbug. Same old traveling through space."  
  
Does he ever. This one statement makes Rimmer ache. He swears some part of himself has ripped open at that statement and his flooding him with blood. He'll drown in a minute, he swears.  
  
He doesn't.  
  
"I, erm, I hear you've got a new crewmember." How did he hear that? It was one of the calculations he had to make. He knew all about the new crewmember.  
  
"Yeah." Lister says, "Kochanski."  
  
"What's she like?" Rimmer presses. He wants to come home, but he doesn't want to invade a ship that's already full and content like that.  
  
"She's okay, y'know?" Rimmer sighs to himself. He doesn't know. He has no smegging idea.  
  
"Is she.. as good as me?" He doesn't want to seem to nosy, but he want to come home. He's been away too long, done too many stupid things, risked too many lives. He's a danger to himself and others. He needs to stay here, to stay stable.  
  
"Well," Lister answers thoughtfully. "She's been here a few weeks and she hasn't quoted on Space Corps directive."  
  
They laugh. Rimmer wants to ask if she's misquoted one, but knows, instinctively that she hasn't.  
  
"She's pretty attractive though, isn't she?"  
  
"Is she?" Hope springs up somewhere in Rimmer. Maybe they will let him stay, maybe he will. "I hadn't really notice. She's the type you don't really notice," Bullshit, Rimmer thinks, this is the woman you've been in love with for ages. Don't notice my ass. "You know when you eat soup and you spill some on your shirt and you don't notice it?" Rimmer nods mutely, he can't believe what he's hearing. "She's like that."  
  
A wide smile crosses Rimmer's face. "So she's not as attractive as me, then?"  
  
"Don't be daft," Lister grins fondly. "She couldn't hold a candle to you, man."  
  
"Nah, you're just saying that." Rimmer can feel his ears turning red, he knows that if he's not careful his whole face will be as red as a heated element. Burning at the same temperature too, probably.  
  
"I'm not!" Lister insists, he has such an honest look on his face that Rimmer believes him. "I.. I missed you, man."  
  
A smile wipes itself off of Rimmer's face as he hears this. Missed him. Missed him. That means, it's got to. Got to. Means he can stay. He looks at Lister, dead in the eyes, willing all the emotion he possibly can into his words. 'And I missed you too, Listy."  
  
"Oh, Arnold, man." Those three words do it. Without a doubt. The tone tells him he can stay. He's being ordered to stay. He'd never argue that. He stands, opening his arms. A single word escapes his otherwise numb with almost shock lips.  
  
"Dave..." Lister stands and launches himself into the open arms. Rimmer clutches him like he'll never touch anything ever again. A series of emotions run across his face. Hope, happiness, desperation, sadness, joy. He's never felt so much from one thing.  
  
"Don't ever leave us again!" He hears, he squeezes, and pulls back.  
  
"I won't, I won't." He means this with his entire being. He wouldn't leave if the head top general admiral guy of the space corps ordered him off. He'll never go, he's home. Home.  
  
"You promise?" The voice is all but cracking with emotion, Rimmer's eyes soften.  
  
"Oh, Listy," He says, Lister smiles.  
  
"Oh Rimsy," he mocks. Their heads come closer together. Inches apart. They move without realizing it, their lips meet, Rimmer pulls Lister closer, trying to pull him into him. Home, he's finally home.  
  
And then he vanishes without further thought as Lister wakes up with a yelp. 


End file.
